


your heart is there (it's in your hands)

by yanak324



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Established Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Las Vegas Pit stop, Mama Smoak wisdom, Post-Season/Series 03, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-20
Updated: 2015-07-20
Packaged: 2018-04-10 07:50:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4383455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yanak324/pseuds/yanak324
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something shifts between them after that. It’s subtle but Oliver notices.</p><p>It’s in the little things. The way Felicity holds his hand a little tighter, the way her gaze lingers just a little longer on his face and the way she curls even deeper into his side at night.</p><p>Or the one in which Oliver realizes that in order to figure out who he really is now, he has to figure out Felicity first. Post - S3.</p>
            </blockquote>





	your heart is there (it's in your hands)

**Author's Note:**

> I have absolutely no excuse for the length of this one-shot except that this show is incredible, the characters are fuel for my writer soul, and Oliver & Felicity stole my heart the second I saw them on screen together. New to the fandom but will probably stick around for a while! Title from Florence + the Machine, or as I like to call them, the soundtrack to my feelings. Hope you guys enjoy this and thank you in advance for powering through!

xxx  


The sunlight that greets him when he opens his eyes is nearly blinding, but in a good way, reminding him that he has been living in darkness for far too long.  


Half-laden eyes scan his surroundings – more out of habit than anything else, but he stops as soon as he sees her.  


She’s clad in something silky and blue; an elegant silhouette perched against the French doors leading to the terrace of their rented condo.  


Her back is to him but he imagines that her eyes are closed, allowing herself to truly revel in the freshness of the ocean air as it wafts into the room. By the time the breeze reaches him, it has picked up the strong scent of whatever brew she has in her mug and he inhales deeply.  


He’s woken up to this exact view nearly a dozen times before but he doubts he’ll ever tire of it.  


The west coast looks good on Felicity Smoak and Oliver intends to tell her so, preferably from a much closer distance, but then she turns around and he can do nothing except stare.  


He finds himself doing that a lot lately, unable to look away from her. It’s as if finally letting her in, letting _them_ happen has stripped him of any propriety, any shame really.  


He already had trouble keeping his eyes off of her when she wasn’t even his to look at and now that she is _his_.  


Well…  


“Oliver, you’re staring again.”  


Felicity’s amusement, drifting idly across the room, reminds him that it’s not just the sight of her barely dressed first thing in the morning that can render him speechless.  


It’s also the way she says his name; the way she speaks in general.  


Maybe if the circumstances were different, Oliver would be embarrassed about his ogling but after everything they’ve been through and the months spent fighting feelings that have been a part of him for far longer than he’s willing to admit, he can’t find it in himself to care.  


So he fixes her with his signature smirk – a relic from his youth that Tommy used to so crassly refer to as “the panty dropper smile,” and lets the sheet fall to his waist as he sits up against the headboard.  


“Can you blame me?” He asks, voice dropping an octave as his gaze sweeps over her frame.  


Felicity’s cheeks color instantly but the look she gives him suggests that she understands what’s being left unsaid.  


Their ability to communicate without words is probably one of his favorite things about them, but it has also almost been their undoing on more than one occasion – times when he should have spoken up but didn’t, adding to the distance between them.  


He hadn’t been wrong when he told her in Nanda Parbat that everything he’d done since the Gambit has somehow led him to be on the receiving end of Ra’s Al Ghul’s offer, but he had been wrong about it not being worth it.  


In hindsight, he knows that every decision he has made, including working with Malcolm Merlyn, was absolutely worth it. Because without it, without the sacrifices and the pain, he wouldn’t get to wake up next to _her_ every morning and if he had to do it all again, he would.  


Just with less collateral damage, he thinks, mind immediately drifting towards John, Roy, Thea…  


He’s not without regrets. Deep, ineffaceable, at times soul crushing regrets.  


But if he had to…if he _absolutely_ had to do it all over again, in the exact same way, he would.  


Because she’d be waiting on the other side.  


This realization – one that has slowly crept up on him over the last couple weeks – is exactly why he needs her now more than ever.  


For whatever reason, she accepts all of him, _loves_ him even and like the selfish bastard that he is, Oliver craves that reminder, the constant underlying reassurance that he can be better, that he can be saved. That if ever a time did come where he had to face the same type of adversary, he would find another way.  


The subtle shift of the mattress drags him out of his thoughts, and he wastes no time taking advantage of Felicity’s proximity, curling his fingers underneath her bent knee and pulling her closer.  


The way she shivers beneath his touch nearly derails him but Oliver is determined.  


“What I meant,” he pauses, leaning in until he can map out the constellation of freckles across the bridge of her nose, “is how can you expect me to focus on anything else when you’re so close to me?”  


Her blush deepens even further and he yearns to freeze this moment, leave it suspended in air for as long as it takes to reacquaint himself with the softness of her skin, the gentle curve of her lip, and the striking blue of her iris.  


“Never stopped you before,” she teases and though it’s meant to be in jest, a different sort of regret coils around his heart.  


He doesn’t think he can articulate just how difficult it had been to keep Felicity at a distance even before that desperate first kiss in the hospital.  


And after that?  


Hell, it was just pure agony.  


Nothing, not even the worst mental or physical torture he had sustained over the years, could prepare him for the confirmed fact that Felicity would always be in danger because of him; that his love would eventually get her killed.  


Since leaving Starling, however, he’s begun to slowly accept that some things, including Felicity’s own decisions, are out of his control. He thinks he’s done a decent job of fighting the guilt, of reminding himself that she is capable of making her own choices and she’s chosen him because she wants him.  


It’s his own happiness he has a hard time accepting. Sometimes it’s almost too much, the feeling of elation he gets around her.  


When his eyes flicker to hers, Oliver can tell that Felicity knows exactly where his thoughts are headed and as usual, she is there to pull him back before he slips into a pit of self-loathing.  


“What I meant,” she leans in to place a hand on his bicep, anchoring him to the present, “is I’m surprised that none of my extremely fitted skirts and totally impractical heels ever provoked quite the same reaction from you as this old robe.”  


If only she knew, he thinks as he ventures a gaze down, noticing for the first time how loosely the sash of her robe is tied, revealing the skin underneath.  


He swallows hard, looking back up to her face. She smiles at him like she knows.  


And that’s all he needs to lean in, abandoning her knee as he draws her closer by the back of her head. Fingers tangle in her curls as he proceeds to skim his lips along her jawline.  


She sighs against him and he’s lost.  


Giving her just enough time to set the mug aside, he pulls her into his lap. And then he’s tugging on the sash, pushing the silk off her shoulders and flinging it aside until there are no barriers between them.  


It’s just Felicity, the ocean breeze, and the faint smell of coffee. Oliver thinks he can live like this forever.  


“It’s most definitely not the robe,” he murmurs against her bare shoulder.  


Her resounding laughter only confirms his point.  


xxx  


Its a couple days later, as they’re having lunch overlooking the Santa Monica pier, that the idea grips him and won’t let him go.  


When he asked Felicity to pretty much abandon her entire life in Starling and run away with him, he hadn’t realized how much he had yet to learn about her – and there was…so much.  


From the mundane, every day things, to the bigger, more life-defining mysteries, he wanted it all. And in his mind, this particular idea would give him a chance to do that.  


Clearly though, Felicity does not share in his enthusiasm.  


“I’m sorry, you want to do what?” She asks, raising a perfectly sculpted eyebrow; a forkful of salad paused halfway to her mouth.  


Oliver smiles; having given up all pretense of being immune to how expressive Felicity is when she is confused or uncomfortable.  


God, if Thea could see him now, he’d never hear the end of it.  


The thought of his sister brings the latent concern for her to the surface and Oliver decides that he’ll break their once a week only check-in rule and call her later today.  


Even if he has to listen to her lecture him on why he should spend less time worrying about her and more time focused on “finding himself” so he can come home sooner, he’ll feel better just hearing her voice.  


“Oliver?”  


He suddenly understands the weight of his suggestion so he takes a sip of water before elaborating further.  


“I want to make a stop in Las Vegas. Doesn’t have to be now but eventually, I’d like to.”  


He gives her a sincere smile, reaching over and stealing a tomato off her plate. This kind of intimacy, almost instinctual in nature, reminds him of the summer before, before their failed first date, before Sara’s death, before his stubbornness drove a wedge between them.

The tomato tastes bitter all of a sudden, but he doesn’t stop chewing, refusing to let another remnant of the past taint their present.  


The clink of her fork against the plate snaps him out of his reverie.  


“I heard you the first time, Oliver. You want to go to Vegas. I got the what; I just don’t get the why.”  


He tilts his head to the side, letting her know he’s not impressed with her feigned ignorance.  


Still, from what little he knows of her past, Oliver understands her hesitation, so he chooses his words carefully.  


“Look, we don’t have to stay with your mom or anything. We don’t even have to tell her we’re coming, even though I’m pretty sure she would know the second we stepped foot in her city-“  


“That is true.” Felicity smirks, nodding in agreement as her eyes shine with affection.  


It occurs to Oliver that this reaction is so different from the one merely a year ago. He likes to think that for once his presence in Felicity’s life, in this case, his advice about family benefited her in some way.  


He only briefly met Donna Smoak, once as Oliver Queen and once as the Arrow, but ever since Felicity let it slip that her mother may have had something to do with helping her realize her feelings for him, he has really wanted to see the woman again, if only to thank her.  


“It’s just that after everything we’ve been through, after everything you’ve helped me through including dealing with all the skeletons from my past, it seems a little unfair that I don’t even know the name of the street you grew up on, let alone what your childhood home looks like. And don’t even get me started on photos of you as a kid. It’s imperative I see those.”  


Her laughter alone is worth the risk of honesty and Oliver is so deeply distracted by the warmth on her face that he almost misses her reply.  


“Okay.” Her voice seems unusually timid.  


It might be the most vulnerable he has ever seen her, even more so than when she told him she loved him. There was a confidence about her that night that could only come with finally accepting one’s feelings and it’s missing right now.  


His heart swells at the knowledge that despite her uncertainty, Felicity is willing to do this.  


He immediately reaches for her hand, bringing her knuckles to his lips as he looks right at her – letting her know that he understands the magnitude of what she’s agreeing to.  


She breaks eye contact first, acting on their unspoken agreement to not let heavy, emotional things weigh them down too much.  


Despite recently defeating one of the most dangerous men in the world, they are both still wary of potential danger lurking around the corner – probably more so him than her but it’s clear to Oliver now that for Felicity, her hometown may be right up there alongside Nanda Parbat in terms of places she’d rather not visit again.  


So he doesn’t push her further, giving her ample opportunity to change her mind. As usual though, she surprises him with her resilience.  


“But only because you inadvertently agreed to stay with my mom, which saves me an hour of arguing.”  


Oliver releases her hand with a chuckle, and leans back in his chair, letting out a relieved sigh.  


“I think I can live with that.”  


Felicity shakes her head slightly at his confidence.  


“Your funeral,” she mutters, picking up her fork again.  


Oliver purses his lips together in amusement as he waits for her words to catch up to her.  


As soon as they do, her head shoots up and she looks mortified, apologetic eyes falling on him as she sighs self-deprecatingly.  


“Oh god, did I really just say that?”  


He laughs heartily, like he hadn’t in a really long time before this trip. It’s testament to how much Felicity’s presence in his life has changed him for the better, how much she’s given him.  


“Yeah you kind of did but that’s okay. It’s why I love you.”  


The shift in her demeanor is subtle but Oliver notices; something like disbelief flashing across her face.  


He hates it but can’t blame her.  


John’s trust is not the only one he fractured – it was hers too, especially since she had faith in him when no one else did.  


He knows how hard she fought for him.  


Ra’s didn’t have to tell him that Felicity came to him – the revelation tortured Oliver much more than any of the League’s other techniques – but even without it, he knew. It was partly her belief in him that made him so determined, made him want to take down Ra’s that much more – even if it meant dying alongside him.  


“You may not be saying that after this visit.”  


“I highly doubt that.” He counters immediately. On the heels of his unspoken thoughts, he is more certain now than ever that nothing new he learns about her could ever change how he feels.  


“Fine, fine, fine,” Felicity backs off, heaving a dramatic sigh and in so doing, relieves any lingering tension spurred by his intensity.  


She has the tendency to diffuse him with her lightness, with the simple fact of her existence and words.  


“But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She waves her fork at him before resuming eating.  


“Fair enough.”  


Oliver relaxes further in his chair, content to watch Felicity finish her lunch as he scans the promenade for any unusual activity – old habits die-hard, he supposes.  


It’s only much later, after they’ve already paid and are strolling down the boardwalk that Felicity says anything else on the topic, surprising him yet again.  


“Downing,” she murmurs, pressing her chin into his shoulder as they slow to a stop.  


“I’m sorry?” He looks down at her.  


Vibrant blue eyes, magnified by her usual sleek frames and shimmery eyeshadow, retain nothing of her earlier uncertainty.  


“The street I grew up on, Downing. Well 673 Downing to be exact but I’m not sure that apartment complex exists anymore. I read somewhere that it got torn down in 2010 as part of a big redevelopment pro-…”  


The only reasonable course of action is to silence her rambling with a kiss.  


xxx  


The second they pass the “Welcome to Las Vegas” sign, he feels her stiffen besides him. Oliver immediately reaches out, covering the hand that rests in her lap.  


“Am I being a jerk?”  


He asks because he knows she will tell him the truth.  


“What?” Felicity turns to look at him, ponytail catching the wind.  


He clears his throat, stalling for a moment.  


“Was I too pushy about this, I mean? Because we can turn around right now, go anywhere you want. Just say the word.”  


But Felicity shakes her head, placing her hand on top of their joint ones and squeezing gently.  


“No, no, no,” she says but the usual luster in her voice is missing and Oliver frowns.  


“It’s just that, I haven’t been back here since my second year of college and wow.” She pauses, looking straight ahead, “that’s a long time; seven years almost.”  


He suddenly understands exactly why she’s so nervous but he feels a little better too, because this is something he knows about, this is something _he_ can help her with.  


For once.  


“Well, you’re in luck because I’m something of an expert when it comes to challenging the notion that you can never go home again.”  


She smiles at that, a real genuine Felicity smile and Oliver is glad they’re catching a bit of traffic because it means he can keep his eyes on her, drink his fill, if that’s at all possible.  


“And let me tell you,” He continues, a little more serious this time, “Sometimes, coming back can lead to incredible things that you never expected.”  


He brings her hand up to his lips then, pressing a kiss to her knuckles – a new habit he doesn’t mind so much. He keeps his gaze trained on her until the car behind them honks.  


They smile conspiratorially at each other when they realize they’ve held up traffic and though he doesn’t want to, Oliver turns back to the road.  


“Thank you for that.”  


Her tone has a breathlessness to it that sends a surge of warmth through him and Oliver squeezes her hand tightly, “I’m the one who should be thanking you for this and for everything else.”  


Felicity heaves a sigh.  


“Oliver Queen, are you ever going to stop this self-flagellating routine?”  


“Eventually,” ha pauses, hoping to deflect, “so maybe you should starting taking advantage of it while you still can.”  


“Oh I intend to,” she promises and after a moment adds, “it’s just too damn bad that my childhood bedroom no longer exists. Would have been fun to check that particular fantasy off my list.”  


His throat runs dry at the implication and he nearly misses the playful wink she gives him.  


For the rest of the drive, he can think only about what else is on that list.  


xxx  


Donna Smoak is a whirlwind. Oliver already knows this but somehow that doesn’t diminish his amusement as he watches her practically sprint from the porch and down to where he and Felicity are standing by the parked Porsche.  


When Donna throws her arms around her daughter, nearly knocking Felicity off balance, Oliver feels a pang of longing for his own mother, wishing for one of her hugs that used to make him feel like nothing in the world could touch him.  


As if reading his mind, Donna releases Felicity and pulls his much taller frame into the circle of her slender arms, squeezing him against her like only a mother can.  


Felicity sends him a silent apology over Donna’s shoulder but he merely smiles in return. He even leans into the embrace a little once the shock wears off. He allows himself to imagine that the floral perfume he inhales is actually Chanel No. 5 – his mother’s favorite.  


“Oliver, it’s good to see you.” Donna eventually pulls back and graces him with a knowing smile, like she expected to see him again in these exact circumstances.  


He wouldn’t be surprised. Mothers always somehow know.  


“It’s a pleasure, Mrs. Smoak.”  


He really means it.  


“Mrs. Smoak?” Donna raises her eyebrow at him – an action very reminiscent of Felicity. She looks over at her daughter, who merely shrugs, before turning back to him.  


“Please call me Donna. No one’s called me Mrs. Smoak since Felicity’s junior year in high school when she hacked into the cameras in the soccer team’s locker room and I had a series of very interesting meetings with her principal.”  


“Mom!”  


It’s Oliver’s turn to raise his eyebrow, immediately looking to Felicity, who has turned an interesting shade of pink. He bites the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.  


“I’m kidding!” Donna rolls her eyes, before addressing Oliver again.  


“She never let that side of her come out until she moved to Starling,” she tells him matter-of-factly and Oliver watches Felicity run her hand across her face in exasperation, muttering something dark under her breath.  


Donna doesn’t seem to notice or care, as she links her arm through his and pulls him along.  


“C’mon, food’s going to get cold, you can get your bags later.”  


She pats his bicep and looks over her shoulder at Felicity, waiting for her to join them even though she is still very much rooted to the ground, looking for all the world like she might flee any minute.  


“He works out too.” Donna compliments and Oliver is suddenly glad the car keys are safely in his pocket.  


Begrudgingly, Felicity retrieves her handbag from the passenger seat and walks towards the house, narrowing her eyes at him in an “I told you so” manner as she passes. Oliver tries not to admire the way the purple skirt flounces around her hips, but apparently he’s not very successful.  


“My daughter certainly has a way with the billionaires, doesn’t she?” Donna muses from besides him and Oliver is infinitely grateful that Felicity is out of earshot.  


xxx  


Having grown up in a home where the majority of meals were prepared by a professional chef and delivered to the dining room by the wait staff, Oliver genuinely enjoys helping Donna set the table.  


It’s not that his family meals were in some way less meaningful as a result, but there’s something so domestic, so homey about the way Donna fusses over them that tugs at Oliver in an unexpected way.  


He’s only ever felt like this when he’s been over to John and Lyla’s for dinner, something he’s not entirely sure is in his near future.  


His eyes shift to Felicity, who is sitting at the table already, scrolling through something on her phone.  


He sets the salad bowl down and reaches out to touch her arm.  


“Hey, you okay?” He asks while Donna is still in the kitchen.  


Felicity looks up at him, giving him a faint smile.  


“Oh yeah, I’m fine.”  


He fixes her with a skeptical look, so she reaches up to kiss him, stroking his cheek with the back of her hand.  


He yearns to deepen it but is acutely aware that they are in her mother’s home and settles for kissing the inside of her wrist instead, letting go only when Donna walks in.  


“Save it for after dinner, kiddies.” She teases and Felicity doesn’t tense up like she had before, for which Oliver is glad.  


“You have a lovely home, Donna.”  


Once they begin eating, he decides to change the subject, figuring it to be a neutral topic.  


Plus, it is a very nice home. Spanish style with high ceilings and bright open spaces filled with little knick-knacks here and there, giving the space a very lived-in feel. He hasn’t been past the kitchen yet but knows it leads to a back deck, overlooking a modest but well-kept backyard.  


When he sees Felicity try to stifle a laugh at his compliment, Oliver briefly wonders if there is such a thing as a safe topic when it comes to the Smoak family.  


It only makes him want to know more.  


“Thank you, Oliver.” Donna replies but he notices the look that passes between the two women and sets his fork down.  


“Okay, what am I missing?”  


“Well, you see, “Felicity begins and her amusement is almost infectious, “apparently, crime fighting runs in the family.”  


And as Donna explains how the house was a gift from one of her regulars as a thank you for her inadvertently exposing a kidnapping plot against him, Oliver decides safe topics are completely overrated.  


xxx  


Later that night, he goes for a run, partly to give Felicity and her mom some alone time before the latter leaves for work and partly because he needs to expend some energy.  


He may not be the Arrow anymore but being idle isn’t in his nature. Felicity doesn’t even blink an eye when he tells her where he’s going but she does confirm that he has his phone on him. He doesn’t argue, knows where her worry is coming from, and kisses her soundly on the mouth before putting on his running shoes.  


If Donna finds the exchange weird, she doesn’t say anything, just tells him there’s a nice running trail a neighborhood over.  


He thanks her and walks out, taking one long fortifying breath before setting off down the block.  


He’s never been much of a recreational runner, probably because most of the running he’s done in his life has been for survival, but since leaving Starling, it’s been a great form of therapy and exercise.  
It gives him time to think, to reflect, without the danger of getting too caught up in the past.  


Tonight, his thoughts are on his mother, less so on the complicated relationship they had the last couple years and more on his childhood, his adolescence. He thinks about how in a way, Donna Smoak and Moira Queen have a lot in common – they both tried to protect their children, even if in his mother’s case, it was through illegal means and deceit.  


Still, he thinks they would have liked each other if they had had the chance to meet. He also knows despite their rocky start, his mom would have eventually warmed up to Felicity as well, admiring her strong moral compass and tenacity just as much as he does.  


Thoughts of the blonde immediately put him at ease, bringing a smile to his face he’s sure is probably a bit goofy.  


It still a little foreign – this feeling of lightness, of _possibility_ that he can’t quite reconcile. Every day feels like a step further away from the life of solitude and guilt he resigned himself to long ago.  


He’s no longer simply existing but actually living.  


The way he takes in breath after breath as he picks up speed is testament to that and Oliver is certain it wouldn’t be the same if Felicity hadn’t agreed to come with him.  


Not wanting to entertain that particular thought, he focuses on his surroundings, taking in the quiet suburban streets and the clear evening sky. The sun set not too long ago, the dark blue bleeding into a dusty purple right along the horizon. It reminds him of Lian Yu, the first place he learned how traitorous yet beautiful nature can be.  


Eventually he finds the running trail Donna mentioned and takes a couple loops around it, before deciding to head back.  


The house is quiet when he lets himself in with the spare key left under the mat. Donna’s car is gone and when he walks into the kitchen for a drink of water, he catches sight of Felicity’s blond ponytail peeking through the window to the deck.  


He decides on a quick shower before joining her but when he emerges from the guest bathroom, Felicity is sitting on the bed, twirling the keys to the Porsche around her index finger.  


“Can I interest you in a ride, handsome?” She asks teasingly, unapologetic blue eyes lingering over his naked torso.  


He advances towards her until they’re in a fairly compromising position but Felicity is undeterred, simply tilting her head up and to the side in a challenge.  


He knows she’s expecting him to kiss her so he leans in until he can feel her breath on his cheek but changes direction at the last minute, giving her piercing a gentle tug with his teeth before answering.  


“Only if you’re driving.”  


He pulls away immediately, grinning all the way back to the bathroom to hang up the towel.  


“Tease,” she huffs after him but Oliver simply shakes his head, emerging to retrieve a fresh shirt from his duffel.  


“Says the woman with the biggest collection of crop tops I’ve ever seen.”  


The look she gives him, as she stands, is priceless.  


“I didn’t even think you knew what a crop top was.”  


He finishes buttoning up his shirt and walks over to her.  


“When it comes to you,” he runs his thumb across her cheek, “I make it a point to know.”  


Then he finally kisses her. The height difference with her being barefoot makes Oliver feel a little more protective and he doesn’t let her go when they pull apart, resting his cheek against her forehead.  


“Besides, if I know what you’re wearing, then I’ll know the fastest way to get you out of it.” He whispers playfully in her ear and Felicity immediately shoves at him, laughing in spite of herself.  


“Alright pervy, let’s go,” she turns around to walk out of the room but pauses in the doorway, extending her hand to him as she shuts off the light.  


Oliver doesn’t hesitate, certain that he would follow her anywhere.  


xxx  


He doesn’t ask where they’re going, preferring instead to sit back and admire Felicity behind the wheel.  


At the end of the day, he’s still just a man and there’s something undoubtedly attractive about a beautiful woman handling such a powerful car.  


His hand finds its way to her knee and he leaves it there. Felicity looks over at him briefly and smiles, but keeps her eyes trained on the road, weaving the Porsche seamlessly through mostly empty streets.  


Eventually they make it out of the suburbs onto a stretch of dark highway with seemingly endless miles of desert ahead.  


When the lights of the Vegas strip become but a speck in the review mirror, Oliver grows restless. He doesn’t even realize his hand is twitching until Felicity’s voice breaks through.  


“Relax, we’re almost there.” She assures him with a quick glance and a tap on his hand to still it, “and it’ll be worth it, I promise.”  


True to her word, a few minutes later, she takes an unmarked exit off the highway, expertly maneuvering the Porsche with just the headlights guiding the way.  


Eventually, she turns those off too, and he’s about to protest when he sees it.  


The dark canopy of the sky, littered with millions of stars, stretches endlessly before them. Occasionally, one shoots across and steals his breath a little.  


It feels like the entire universe is _literally_ in the palm of his hand.  


He didn’t think he was still capable of being taken aback by anything, but is glad to be proven wrong.  


“Felicity, this is-…”  


“I know.” She says breathlessly, words full of wonder as she kills the engine.  


“There’s nothing quite like a sky full of stars to remind you of the infinite possibilities in the world while also making you feel incredibly insignificant…or at least that’s what my father used to say.”  


At the mention of her father, Oliver loses interest in their scenery and turns his attention on her.  


She’s stunning, even so deep in what he can only assume are painful reflections.  


“I agree with the first part.” He says quietly, not wanting to scare her away from anything else she might share with him, but needing to reassure her that he’s there, that he will pull her back if it gets to be too much.  


Felicity looks up at him briefly, lips pulled into an appreciative smile, before gazing forward. The clink of the keys, as she fiddles with them, is the only sound interrupting the otherwise heavy silence. Oliver wants to say something but decides to wait her out.  


“He used to bring me here before…” She pauses, and Oliver doesn’t push her to elaborate. The light squeeze on her knee is involuntary though as he feels a surge of anger.  


How anyone could walk out on their wife and daughter like that is beyond him, but then again, he’s seen his fair share of seemingly impossible things so he shouldn’t be so surprised.  


“Anyways, the first thing I did when I got my driver’s license was track this place down. I’d come here sometimes to just sit and think. It was nice to have a place just for myself, somewhere I could let myself go and…”  


“Remember your dad.” He supplies, noting how difficult it is for her to actually get the words out – an unusual occurrence for the talkative blonde.  


“Yeah.”  


The image of a teenage Felicity furiously typing away on her computer to locate the GPS coordinates of a random spot in the desert just so she can have somewhere to go to feel closer to the father who abandoned her only fuels Oliver’s latent animosity towards the man, but he does his best to conceal it.  


“I get it, you know.” He acknowledges, catching her wayward gaze.  


Fighting his desire to pull her into his arms when he notices the glint of unshed tears, Oliver takes the keys from her hands instead and entwines their fingers.  


“Sometimes, when things got to be too much on the island, I would go sit by the makeshift grave I made for my father. It was nothing more than a patch of ground marked by a wooden cross but it made all the difference. It gave me purpose, the will to find a way off the island so I could go right his wrongs.  


And even after I came back and figured out how deep his involvement with Malcolm actually went, I still sometimes found it comforting to sit by his grave….well his other grave.” He half-smiles at that, yet again reminded of how twisted his life has become in the last decade.  


Felicity chuckles lightly, sharing in his amusement but just barely.  


She’s still a million miles away.  


“He wasn’t all bad, you know.”  


Although Oliver knows she’s referring to her own father, a part of him feels like she’s also reassuring him about his.  


“That’s what probably hurt the most about him leaving. It was a serious case of whiplash. One day, he is teaching me how to take apart a hard drive and the next I come home from school to find my mom sitting in the kitchen, tears in her eyes, with a post-it note that says, ‘I’m sorry.’”  


His jaw clenches of its own accord, but he tries to keep his obvious anger at bay because this isn’t about him. He does not want Felicity turning the tables and trying to comfort him, because she will. It’s her M.O. – her way of avoiding her own issues.  


He works out and she takes on other people’s emotional baggage. What a pair, he thinks, with a sudden burst of affection.  


“Did you ever try to, you know, find him?” He asks this carefully, not sure if he’s overstepping his bounds but he is curious, knows she’s not lacking in investigative skills.  


“Oh no,” she shakes her head rather adamantly, then stops, biting her lip and looking at him sheepishly when she realizes how short she sounded.  


“Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I never thought about it but by the time I actually gained enough skill to do it, I just.” She shrugs, expelling a much needed breath and it literally pains him to see her so at odds with herself. He has to actively remind himself that her finally talking about it is a good thing.  


“I couldn’t do it.” She admits, tone more wistful than anything.  


“You know my mom always talks about how I inherited a lot of good from my father – my thirst for knowledge, curiosity, a damn high IQ.”  


They both chuckle at that. It’s easy to forget sometimes how intelligent she is, given that she rarely flaunts it but Oliver remembers; keeps a running tally of all the times her quick thinking and technical prowess saved them out in the field.  


“But the one thing he never gave me was strength, courage. That was all mom. Watching the way she so gracefully pulled herself together after, not letting the pain and heartbreak consume her, it made me feel like I could get over it too. Then it just seemed pointless to find my dad because my mom, despite her crazy ways, turned out to be all the family I needed.”  


Her lips curve up into a rueful smile.  


“It was also the first time I realized that life will throw you all sorts of curveballs but it’s how you handle them that makes all the difference. Seeing my mom power through and continue on living, it’s what helped me get over Cooper and…”  


There’s a beat of silence but this time, he won’t let anything remain unsaid.  


“Helped you get over me dying too.”  


Felicity turns to him then, expression guilty because she knows it’s a sore spot for him, “yeah.”  


As much as he hates it that he’s in the same category as the father who abandoned her and the ex-boyfriend who held her at gun point, Oliver is glad she finally told him. He’s also reminded that he has a lot more to thank Donna Smoak for than he ever realized.  


“Just to be clear though,” Felicity interrupts his thoughts, extricating her hand from their embrace to settle on his jaw, “I didn’t get over it. I didn’t even begin to scratch the surface in the time it took you to come back to me, and boy am I glad you did.”  


“Me too.” He whispers against her palm, lips brushing along her skin. Their eyes connect in the darkness, and the sincerity he sees there does something to his self-control.  


“C’mere.” He rasps out, and she’s in his lap a second later, all soft, warm, and eager, right beneath his fingertips. Not for the first time, Oliver thanks whatever greater force brought her into his life.  


Felicity leans down to kiss him, trapping his face between her palms, and his fingers are already slipping underneath her skirt when he stops.  


It’s physically painful to pull away, especially when he sees how her eyes have darkened to an almost cobalt shade, but he needs to say this.  


“Remember when I told you I was glad you had the experiences you did because it shaped who you are now.”  


She immediately relaxes in his lap, gaze softening as she recalls the memory fondly, “kind of hard to forget.”  


He grins at that, letting her expression soothe him. He’s glad she has some happy memories associated with him, given his penchant for somehow always hurting her.

He reaches up to tuck an invisible strand of hair behind her ear, thumb tracing over her piercing – another habit he’s picked up recently. 

“I just want you to know that I never intended to add to those painful experiences and that I promise I’ll try my best not to in the future.”  


She opens her mouth, no doubt to argue, but then changes her mind. He’s said some variation of this many times since they’ve left Starling but never in the context of her father or Cooper. He’d never made that connection before and judging by her decision not to press him, it seems Felicity understands.  


“I know you will.” She says with so much conviction, it warms him inside out, “because despite what you might think, Oliver Queen,” she continues and it’s his turn not to interrupt her, “you’re a good man and that,” her lips hover over his, close enough for him to feel her breath, “makes all the difference.”  


He doesn’t miss the significance of that statement – she doesn’t see him as a bad experience, hasn’t grouped him in with all the other people who have abandoned her or lied to her or caused her pain.  


Oliver doesn’t know what to say though, how to express his gratitude verbally so he lets his actions do the talking. Sliding his hand behind her neck, he pulls her into a deep, languid kiss, the kind that leaves both of them just a little shaky.  


She’s breathing hard when they pull apart but there are the beginnings of a devilish smile on her lips and he watches as she slides her hands down his chest, unbuttoning his shirt with purpose.  


“Now, how about we stop talking and I’ll show you what other fantasies I have on my list?”  


He is more than happy to oblige.  


xxx  


Something shifts between them after that. It’s subtle but Oliver notices.  


It’s in the little things. The way Felicity holds his hand a little tighter when they walk down the strip, the way her gaze lingers just a little longer on his face as he speeds down the highway on the way to the Hoover Dam and the way she curls even deeper into his side at night, until there’s not an inch of space between them.  


He’s known from their first kiss that sexual compatibility was definitely not going to be a problem, but this level of intimacy, brought on by her willingness to let him in, to trust him with her deepest insecurities, has opened an entirely new door for them, and Oliver simply cannot keep his hands away from her.  


That’s how he finds himself standing nestled between Felicity’s thighs in Donna’s dimly lit kitchen at three in the morning, hands gripping her hips unsteadily as her tongue trails a dangerous path down his chest.  


On their last night in Vegas, he decided to take her and Donna out to dinner, but at the last minute, the latter got called away to work so it ended up being just the two of them.  


And maybe there was a little too much wine and maybe her face, framed by the moonlight, took his breath away a little, causing him to pounce on her like a hungry animal as soon as they crossed the threshold of her mother’s house.  


But he’s not accepting responsibility for their current predicament at all.  


Not when her warm lips are the ones spreading heat over his marred skin, awakening dormant nerves and sending all his blood rushing south.  


His thumb skims the lace of her underwear, and the little sighs she makes, paired with how her thighs widen further in invitation, only amplifies his overwhelming need for her, one that never actually seems to go away.  


He’s literally about to throw her over his shoulder and carry her upstairs – propriety be damned – when he hears the unmistakable sound of a car pulling into the driveway. Felicity must pick up on it as well because her lips still somewhere near his left nipple and Oliver actually has to shut his eyes and count to ten in order to regain some measure of control.  


He’s not entirely sure Donna would mind if she caught him groping her daughter in her own kitchen but he knows said daughter would not be comfortable with that, even in her slightly inebriated state.  


As if on cue, he feels a warm hand press against his lower stomach, muscles immediately reacting to her touch.  


Oliver swallows hard, watching as Felicity slides off the counter and comes to her full height. He instantly misses the feel of her bare skin so he changes course, hands running up and down her arms, as she tries to catch her breath.  


“We can continue this upstairs.” She suggests quietly, tone weighed down by desire but expression almost bordering on shy. It’s this combination that makes heat pool low in his belly, spreading until every single part of him is vibrating with need.  


Still, as tempting as it may be, and the flush on her cheeks and her bottom lip pulled between her teeth definitely make him waver, somehow through the wine and Felicity induced haze, he remembers the conversation he wanted to have with Donna. Given that they’re leaving tomorrow, this might be his only chance.  


That, paired with the yawn Felicity tries to stifle unsuccessfully, solidifies his decision to take a pause on their activities. He steps back a bit, though his hand remains on her arm, not ready to separate completely.  


“Why don’t you go get ready for bed while I make your mom some tea?”  


His suggestion seems to sober her up a bit and Felicity smiles at him in understanding. He thinks she’s about to walk away but she fists his shirt instead, pulling him down for a drawn out kiss, which only adds to his arousal.  


“Okay, but don’t take too long,” she cautions him with a playful glint in her eye, slipping out from between him and the counter.  


As he watches her retreat from the kitchen, Oliver takes a moment to admire the way the sleeveless black dress frames her curves. Paired with the red heels she’s wearing, it almost makes him reconsider but she is already halfway up the stairs by the time he snaps out of it.  


When he hears another set of heels coming closer, he quickly buttons up his shirt and walks to the counter, busying himself with preparations for tea.  


“Oliver? What are you still doing up?”  


At the sound of Donna’s tired voice, he turns around, gesturing to the electric kettle behind him, “tea?”  


“Tea.” She repeats, raising an eyebrow and Oliver clears his throat, realizing through his monosyllabic response that he’s actually a little nervous.  


“I thought you might like some… after your shift, I mean. Felicity told me it’s something of a ritual for you.”  


He’s only ever stumbled on his words like this when asking Felicity out on a date. What is it about Smoak women that seems to throw him so off balance?  


Donna’s expression relaxes instantly, dissolving into a half smile as she approaches him, setting her purse on the counter.  


“I didn’t realize I was so predictable,” she muses lightly and Oliver immediately opens his mouth to protest, but she takes pity on him.  


“Relax, Oliver. I was just joking.”  


She gives him an onceover then, head tilting to the side with narrowed eyes, inspecting him much like Felicity would every time he came back from patrol.  


It reminds him that despite the similarities Felicity apparently shares with her father, she’s still very much her mother’s daughter.  


The observation makes him smile, and he almost forgets that he should really say something but by then, Donna’s already nudged him aside, moving towards the coffeemaker.  


“I think maybe you need something a little stronger than tea after what I can only assume was a dinner with lots of red, if I know my daughter well enough.”  


Oliver smirks at that, head ducking down as he slides his hands into his pant pockets, a little uncomfortable at being caught but feeling much more at ease now that he doesn’t have to conceal his inebriation.  


“Maybe some air too,” Donna suggests a moment later, reaching for mugs from a higher cabinet. He steps in to help but she shoos him away, “go, go, I’ll be right there.”  


She points to the backdoor and Oliver obeys without argument.  


Stepping onto the deck, he sits down on the wrought iron couch, shutting his eyes and inhaling the cool desert air. Donna is right, it definitely helps clear some of his mental cobwebs and Oliver finds himself sinking further into the cushions, head leaning back.  


He doesn’t even realize he managed to doze off until the strong scent of coffee rouses him sometime later. He immediately leans forward, accepting the proffered mug with a whispered thank you.  


Donna smiles in acknowledgement, before taking a seat beside him, toeing off her heels and tucking her feet underneath her. It reminds him so much of Felicity, he wants to comment on it, but isn’t sure what to say, so he settles for what he’d originally planned.  


“Thank you for inviting me into your home, Donna.” He takes a sip of coffee, letting the slight bitterness jolt his senses.  


“Thank you for taking care of my daughter.”  


Oliver smirks at that, peering into the depth of his coffee cup, “I am pretty sure she’s the one who takes care of me.”  


“Yeah, that’s probably true, sweetheart but we both know you’ve saved her life on more than one occasion.”  


There’s something in her tone that makes him pause, the edges of an epiphany spiking his internal alarm.  


Could she really?  


It’s not like they were being too subtle the time he met her at the club but she also didn’t seem to question it and he was so preoccupied with other things then, he never really bothered to ask.  


Oliver only needs to look at Donna to confirm his suspicion. He waits for the usual discomfort and anxiety that follows the discovery of his dual identity but it never comes. It could be because that part of him doesn’t exist anymore buts something tells him he would have had the same reaction to Donna finding out if he was still the Arrow.  


“How?”  


Donna seems appreciative of him skipping past denial, and leans forward, setting her tea on the coffee table.  


“On my way back home from Starling last time, the guy sitting next to me on the plane was reading a newspaper with you on the cover. They had already cleared you of the charges, but when I remembered how anxious Felicity was at the hospital, even after Ray was okay, and how she left to run a mysterious errand when she should have been by his side, I put two and two together.”  


He’s not exactly surprised but also isn’t sure what to say, the strange turn of their conversation preventing him from thinking clearly. Donna seems to pick up on it though. When she places a comforting hand on his shoulder, Oliver turns to face her, finding her expression to be more serious than ever before.  


The tilt of her head, however, is very much sympathetic and that, paired with her touch, somehow lessens the longing he has felt for his own mother the last couple days.  


“I wasn’t kidding when I said that something changed in Felicity when she moved to Starling City, but it wasn’t until about three or so years ago that I really noticed a difference.”  


She pauses then and though he isn’t sure what to expect, the way Donna’s eyes momentarily flicker to her lap in uncertainty lets him know that whatever she has to say is important.  


“You probably know my relationship with my daughter hasn’t always been the best. We’ve had our differences since she was a kid. It got worse after her father left and as much as it hurt me, when she got accepted into MIT, I knew she had to go, she deserved a better life than what I could give her.”  


Oliver wants to offer her some words of comfort, but every time he opens his mouth, nothing comes out. He resigns himself to listening.  


“Still, it was pretty tough for me when she went away. We barely spoke on the phone and I had to practically bribe her to come back home for the holidays the last time she was here. After a while, it really felt like she had left me too.”  


Her voice cracks slightly then and Oliver tries not to feel guilty for putting all of this in motion.  


As if reading his mind though, Donna catches his gaze and gives him a watery smile.  


“But then, a couple years after moving to Starling, and working at Queen Consolidated, something changed and she started calling me more. We went from talking maybe once a month to practically every day, and they weren’t empty conversations either. She was actually talking to me, sharing tidbits about her life, what she was doing, and she seemed genuinely interested in how I was doing too. She even invited me to visit a few times. I wasn’t really able to until the whole Cooper debacle, but that’s not what matters.”  


She clears her throat then, sitting up a little straighter, hand falling to his forearm, “what does matter, Oliver, is that regardless of what you and Felicity were to each other back then, allowing her to be a part of whatever it was you were doing, it gave me my daughter back. So you are always, always welcome in my home.”  


His throat runs a little dry as he makes the connection, linking Donna’s words to a timeline that’s always in the back of his mind, beginning with the day he walked into Felicity’s office with a bullet riddled laptop and a pathetic lie.  


From there, a sequence of moments, like a kaleidoscope of vibrant color he’s come to associate only with Felicity, race through his head and he has to recline again as the weight of Donna’s words settles over him.  


At the same time, he feels lighter somehow. The guilt he’s always carried over involving Felicity in his crusade lessens now with the discovery that it may have also led to mending her relationship with her mother.  


The coffee doesn’t seem so necessary now, not when the revelation has left him wide awake and Oliver leans forward to set the half-empty mug onto the coffee table, when Donna tugs on his arm again.  


“You okay, sweetheart? You look like I just told you Christmas doesn’t exist anymore, not that we Jews even celebrate it but…”  


It’s meant to be a joke, he knows that, but all he can manage is a half-smile, still processing everything she told him.  


“I’m sorry, I just.” He pauses then, not because he doesn’t know what to say but because he wants to say _too_ much.  


He wants to tell her how even in the beginning, Felicity was special to him, that there was something about her that gave him hope when hope felt like a luxury he could never afford; that even though he has rescued her from danger more times than he would like, it’s Felicity who rescued his soul, who pulled him out of the darkness.  


That hers was the last face he saw before being impaled by a sword and pushed to his death.  


But mostly, Oliver wants to tell her how grateful he is for her honesty, for unburdening him even just that little bit, showing him that maybe, possibly, what Felicity said about him making her life better is actually true.  


He’s still on the fence about that but Donna’s words may be the thing to sway him.  


In the end, he settles for a simple, heartfelt thank you, falling back on his taciturn ways.  


Donna doesn’t seem to mind, however. Soft, kind eyes, not unlike her daughter’s, reflect a depth of understanding that does not need to be translated into words.  


An unspoken agreement passes between them in that moment.  


_Protect my daughter’s heart, Oliver and you will always have a home._  


The alternative doesn’t need to be addressed; it’s part of his new crusade, his mission – to be happy.  


And all that hinges on his ability to make Felicity happy first.  


It’s one in the same and Donna recognizes that.  


It’s only much later, as he slips into bed besides Felicity, that he truly grasps the weight of everything he and Donna spoke about.  


It’s his turn for desperation then. The need to be as close to Felicity as possible, so he can protect her, heart and all, trumps his reluctance to wake her up. He presses her against him, burying his nose in her hair and inhaling her scent.  


His stubble scratches against the back of her neck, but Felicity doesn’t seem to mind, arching a little into him and letting out a happy sigh as he wraps his arm tighter around her middle, tucking it underneath her breasts.  


“Hmm, you took too long.” She murmurs sleepily, giving his forearm a gentle stroke before snuggling deeper into his embrace. 

“I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you,” he whispers, and when she stirs against him, he adds pointedly, “tomorrow. Now sleep.”  


“No fair,” she mumbles, but her protests are weak, already too far gone to actually do anything about it.  


Oliver feels himself teetering on the edge of sleep as well, exhaustion infringing on the clarity he had just moments ago. Yet through it all, he hears her anyway, her voice always like a beacon calling him home.  


“Love you though.”  


“I love you too.”  


He falls asleep, thinking that he’ll never be in need of another crusade if he can spend the rest of his life proving to her how much.  


xxx  


The next morning as he watches Felicity and Donna say good bye, Oliver feels strangely invigorated.  


Considering that he fell asleep at the crack of dawn and spent most of his morning making it up to Felicity for letting her go to bed alone, he should be exhausted.  


Instead, he can’t wait to get on the road.  


They had originally planned to drive South, a final destination somewhere in Mexico but when Felicity mentioned that she’d never been to Canada before; Oliver knew he had to take her there.  


Vancouver in July is something to see and besides, they have all the time in the world to get to Mexico or New York or the Caribbean or anywhere really …  


Such freedom still seems surreal but with each new destination, it feels less and less ephemeral – like it won’t just slip through his fingers when he’s not looking. Today, he feels especially calm about it, a steadiness in his soul the origin of which he can’t quite pinpoint.  


Though venturing a glance at the embracing mother-daughter duo, he thinks it probably has a lot to do with the conversation he had with Donna last night.  


Starling City will always be his home, no matter what but knowing that he has a place here too, somewhere he can escape to if ever a need arises – well, it’s just another thing he is grateful for and one he will not take for granted.  


His eyes briefly roam over Felicity’s face as she and Donna break apart, not sure what he’s trying to find there, but perhaps something to indicate that she’s not too unsettled by their pit stop here.  


He knew his intentions for coming to Las Vegas were entirely selfish; the intense urge to understand where Felicity comes from, to uncover her origins by retracing the steps from her past like she has helped him do for the last three years was too tempting to resist. He just hopes that coming here also brought Felicity a little bit of peace, helped settle some of her demons.  


Seeing the vibrant smile on her face, one that’s easily detectable even from a distance, quells the traces of anxiety that still plague him, the lingering remnants of guilt and self-loathing that he’s still grappling with every day.  


Having Felicity by his side has done wonders in helping him shed those old self-destructive habits, specifically the ones that led to him push everyone away in some misguided attempt to keep them safe.  


Now he knows he is stronger with people around him, not as a lone wolf.  


That’s why when Felicity gives her mother a kiss on the cheek and then disappears back into the house, Oliver has no problem approaching Donna and giving her a hug of his own.  


It’s brief and certainly not as cozy as the ones Felicity tends to give out, but he can tell it means the world to her by the way she squeezes him and the subsequent glassiness in her eyes.  


“Oh gosh, look at me, I’m such a mess.” She says, tilting her head to blink back what Oliver hopes to be happy tears, “acting like I’ll never see you guys again.”  


Oliver just chuckles at that, giving her a light squeeze on her shoulder, “its okay. I know how tough good byes can be. “  


His impromptu admission catches him off guard but it doesn’t fill him with dread like it would have before – recalling all the times he’d had to part with his loved ones.  


Donna doesn’t press him on it, choosing to steer the subject in another direction, for which Oliver is grateful.  


“Felicity tells me you guys are headed North, to Canada?”  


Oliver shakes off the momentary weight and nods, sliding his hands in his pockets, “Yes, great time of the year to see British Columbia, we’ll try for something warmer when the weather starts getting colder.”  


“So does that mean you have no plans to settle down with my baby? Just continue this vagabond lifestyle for the foreseeable future?”  


If this had been a few days ago, Oliver might have freaked out just a little at the question, despite it being somewhat reasonable but after their conversation the night before, Oliver has learned to pick up on some of Donna’s tells. The mirth in her eye and the gentle tilt of her head suggests she’s merely teasing.  


He doesn’t miss the opportunity to be honest though – he likes this new path of his.  


“As long as she’s with me, I’ll feel settled anywhere.” His voice grows quieter as he says this, realizing how true it really is. Donna’s eyes widen just a fraction – he’s sort of impressed that he managed to get a reaction out of her, “she might not feel the same but-…”  


Donna interrupts him with a hand on his bicep, this time it’s one of reassurance rather than a way to tease her daughter.  


“You’re a good man, Oliver.” She entreats him with a pointed gaze, “you should remind yourself of that every once in a while.”  


The surge of emotion is not unexpected but it definitely throws him a little off kilter. It’s not the same as when Felicity said it a few nights ago before making love to him under the stars.  


No. This is decidedly different – like being pleasantly surprised when you thought you were all maxed on good karma.  


It feels great. Like _really_ great to know that he not only has Donna’s trust but also her approval. That she recognizes something in him.  


As expected, the realization swallows any response he may have and by the time he opens his mouth to speak, Felicity emerges from the house, approaching them with a bright, sunny smile that’s so damn distracting, he almost misses the item tucked into her side.  


“Ready to go?” She asks, gaze flickering between him and Donna.  


Oliver knows that if he doesn’t speak soon, she’ll get suspicious and then hawk him until he gives in and tells her everything. And while there are no more secrets between them, he’d like to keep his conversations with Donna private, at least for the time being.  


“Yes,” He says quickly, sliding his arm around her waist and giving her hip a gentle squeeze. She instantly relaxes beneath his touch, but slips away to give her mom one final hug.  


Oliver sends Donna a smile over Felicity’s shoulder and she nods at him in acknowledgement.  


“Be safe, you two.” She warns perfunctorily but Felicity humors her regardless, dropping a kiss on Donna’s cheek and nodding, “we will be.”  


Oliver silently backs up that promise and then follows Felicity to the Porsche. He moves ahead to open the passenger car door for her but she stops and shakes her head.  


“Nu uh, mister. You promised, remember?”  


He rakes his brain to recall which promise she’s referring to exactly and he must look extra confused, because Felicity takes pity on him, laughing as she slides her hand into his pants pocket and pulls out the keys to the Porsche.  


_Oh right._  


“Don’t look so sad,” Felicity teases.  


Then before he can argue that he’s definitely _not_ sad, just not looking forward to having to exercise serious self-control while watching her drive, she presses the leather bound book she had tucked under her arm into his chest.  


“Here’s something to occupy your time.”  


Oliver looks at her in confusion but she simply shrugs and heads around the car to get into the driver’s seat. He follows suit, slipping into the passenger seat and buckling in.  


Felicity is already pulling out of the parking spot before he realizes the item in his lap is not a book but a photo album.  


They’re halfway down the block when he opens the first page and turns to look at Felicity, who stares straight ahead, chewing on her bottom lip.  


They’re at the stop sign when she finally looks over at him, a flicker of vulnerability in her blues.  


“You wanted baby pictures, right?”  


Oliver immediately reaches for her and kisses her squarely on the mouth, not caring if they are holding up traffic.  


In fact, he realizes, he doesn’t have a care in this world except for the woman in front of him.  


Felicity eventually pulls back and gives him a more assured smile before turning back to the road.  


Oliver settles back in his seat, content to flip through the memories Felicity is willingly sharing with him.  


But the thought stays with him for days to come.  


It keeps him grounded as they cross the border into Canada and spend a glorious week roaming the streets of Vancouver before taking a ferry to Victoria.  


It helps him support Felicity when she gets an email informing her that Ray Palmer most likely died in an explosion at Palmer Technologies but that he’d signed over ownership of the company to her.  


It gives him strength when he gets a call from Laurel saying Thea is in trouble.  


And it fills him with hope when they walk out of the Starling City airport to find John Diggle waiting for them in Arrivals.  


He hadn’t lied to Donna when he said that he’d feel settled anywhere if Felicity is by his side.  


So if he has to return to Starling and put on another green suit, he will. 

Because this time, he won't stop her from fighting alongside him.  


Because, she is everything to him and he is stronger with her than without.  


Because, she _is_ his home and now that he’s crossed the threshold, he doesn’t plan on turning back.  


xxx


End file.
